Since my childhood, I was a skinny guy. I was always thin, and my belly was always flat. Even though I would have loved to have some muscles, I valued not having a round belly almost as much, and that satisfied me. The effort required to grow muscles did not seem worth it because no muscles and no round belly was a good enough compromise.

I could eat whatever I wanted. Fried samosas with a spicy potato filling, served with chickpeas and a sweet and spicy sauce. Golden brown gulab jamuns dipped in over-saturated sugar syrup. Crispy, spherical, hollow gol gappas filled with mashed potatoes, chickpeas, and diced onions, served with tangy and spicy flavored Jaljeera water. I could have them all and still stayed the same skinny boy I ever was.

The lifestyle of eating healthy food and regular workouts required for a well-toned body was not worth it. It wasn't as if I'd never tried to live a healthy life.

In 2018, I enrolled in a half-marathon. I had never been an active person, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. I started with running for 30 minutes, then 45 minutes, and then an hour. After I was able to run for an hour, I started to set kilometer goals. I started from 7 km, and then added 1 km to my run every week. I learned that you do not run your goal distance until your race day. So I trained to run till 16 km, and then on the race day I ran 21.6 km. I ran my half-marathon in 2 hours and 36 minutes.

I was happy with my achievement. Before I started practicing, I doubted myself, but crossing that finish line made me feel indestructible. For a moment, I believed I could do anything.

But, there was a catch. Every weekend I would go for a run around 10 am and come back after noon. I spent more than two hours every weekend going running, and I did not want to do it for the rest of my life. So I went back to my previous life. I was still skinny, and I knew my body could achieve physical goals. But the reward—being stronger— wasn't worth the grueling effort required.

This all changed after I turned 25. My metabolism slowly started to give up on me, and my belly started to add some layers of fat. The clothes I had started to fit a bit less on my body. My t-shirts were slowly starting to get tight around my belly. Shirts no longer fell flat from my chest to my hips. There was an angle at which the shirt fell from my chest to my belly.

I was still slim, but my body was not the same anymore. Every time I looked in the mirror while trying on my clothes, I had to decide what to wear based on whether it stretched around my belly or not.

Finally, the time had come—I needed to work hard. I knew where I stood physically, and I knew it would be tough. For some exercises, I was so weak I couldn't do them even with an empty barbell. But I had to start, so I did. I visited a few gyms near my house and found one that worked for me. My goals seemed simple: lift more weights and get fit. Well, at least I thought they were.

Initially, things were working; my muscles were getting toned, and I was lifting heavier weights consistently. This continued for a few months, but by the end of the year, the progress started to plateau. I wasn't lifting heavier weights week after week anymore, and the muscles weren't adding shape at the same speed as before.

I had also moved twice during this time, so hitting the plateau combined with all the life changes pushed me away from the gym.

It took a while for my progress to fade, but it eventually did. My biceps started to feel soft again. Then came the worst part: my belly started to grow again. Since I was older now, my metabolism was even slower. My belly was making a comeback—bigger and rounder—stretching all my shirts to their limit.

I couldn’t avoid it anymore—it was time to head back to the gym.

Back at the gym, it was the same thing—same exercises, same slow progress. The gym wasn't fun, but I went anyway. I had to look like a version of myself that I liked.

Luckily for me, something happened that gave me a new reason to keep going. Brian, one of the trainers, started offering kickboxing classes. I joined. Lifting weights still didn't interest me, but kickboxing was fun. So I'd go for kickboxing and force myself to work out afterward.

After a few months of kickboxing, I started doing personal training with Brian. I wanted to make sure my form was correct for the big lifts—bench presses, squats, and deadlifts.

Brian ended up being one of the best additions to my workout journey. He would change my workout plan every few weeks, which did several things for me. First, I felt like I was progressing rapidly because I was learning so many different movements. Every new movement felt like a victory. Second, when I would return to an exercise a few weeks later, I could lift heavier weights—tangible proof of my progress. Third, every few months, I would see my muscles gain more tone and watch my physique move closer to my goal.

Working with Brian, I realized that those small checkpoints made workouts fun for me. Having a better physique was my main goal, and I was happy to see progress towards it. But that progress took time.

Now I understand: what keeps me going are the small milestones in between—learning new exercises, mastering complex movements, lifting heavier weights. The progress I see every week helps me stay motivated towards my long-term goal, which is a slow grind to a better-looking me.

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This journey of fitness helped me learn something very important in life. To reach your big goals, you have to enjoy the small steps of progress in between, because it's the daily victories that fuel the long grind. For it's the small steps that take you to your big destinations. This reminds me of a famous Punjabi saying:

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ਔਖਾ ਕੰਮ ਨੀ ਕੋਈ ਜਹਾਨ ਉੱਤੇ
ਹੁੰਦਾ ਕਰਨਾ ਸਦਾ ਆਰੰਭ ਔਖਾ
ਹੋਵੇ ਹੌਂਸਲਾ ਚੱਕ ਪਹਾੜ ਦਈਏ
ਬਿਨਾ ਹੌਂਸਲੇ ਚੱਕਣਾ ਖੰਭ ਔਖਾ

Romanized:

Aukha kamm ni koi jahan utte
Hunda karna sada aarambh aukha
Hove haunsla chakk paharr da'iye
Bina haunsle chakkna khambh aukha

Translation:

There isn't any difficult task in this world,The difficult part is always the beginning.With courage, you can lift a mountain,Without courage, it's difficult to lift a feather.